Plague Theory
by grayseeker
Summary: Rumble seems to be immune to the strange plague that's sweeping the Decepticon ranks. Starscream, being a scientist, wants to know why.
1. Immunity

_"Where there's a curse on the door, there's treasure on the other side."_  
—Starscream, _Cosmic Rust_.

 _First the ghost planet_ , Rumble thought as he steered the anti-grav transport sled into the _Victory_ 's repair bay, _and now this_.

Even in the short time he'd been below decks, things had gone noticeably downhill. Astrotrain had curled on his side with his good wing tucked beneath him, his face hidden. His other wing, which was pointing toward the ceiling, now sported a large, rusted-out hole, and similar patches now covered most of his frame. His vents were coming in slow, drawn-out gasps, and Rumble didn't need medical training to tell that he was in bad shape.

Scrapper, Mixmaster and Bonecrusher, who'd been the first to work on Astrotrain when he and the small team of Decepticons had returned from their exploratory mission to the deserted Autobot planet, were doing only slightly better. Whatever this plague was, it was spreading fast.

"Hey, Hook!" Rumble shouted. "Got your stuff from the supply bay!"

The Decepticons' Head Engineer and sometime medic glanced up from the readouts he'd been examining. "Park it there," he said, waving to a corner of the room. "I'll get to it in just a..." he paused, optics narrowing behind his visor. "Rumble, that's the _wrong_ stuff. That's estusium. I asked for estisiam."

"Say what?" Rumble frowned at his load. "What's the diff?"

Hook strode over and lifted one of the canisters in a gloved hand. "This one is a silicate-based lubricant for joints and cables. The one I asked for is…" he dropped his voice, darting a glance toward Astrotrain, "a powerful anti-corrosive." He set the cannister back on the pile and reached for a datapad. "I'll write it down for you," he said, entering a series of glyphs. "You really can't miss it, though. The estisiam vacuum tubes are sealed with an orange cap."

"Orange cap, got it." Rumble took the datapad, dropped it on the pile, and steered the sled back toward the doors. They burst open at his approach, and Rumble yelped in surprise as Starscream stormed through.

"Out of my way!" he ordered as he swept past, stomping over to Hook's supply room.

Rumble, sensing that things were about to get interesting, turned the sled and glided after him. He could hear the sound of storage compartments being yanked open inside the supply room, then rummaging sounds punctuated by angry muttering.

"Expert indeed!" he heard Starscream say. "I'll show _him_ who's an expert!"

Starscream burst from the supply room a moment later, his arms now laden with scientific equipment. "Step aside, lackey!" he snapped to Hook, pushing him aside with a jab from one of his wings as he carried his burden to a work bench.

"Pardon me ever so much for asking," Hook said, in a tone that dropped the air temperature by several degrees, "but might you be so good as to explain what exactly you're doing?"

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?" Starscream grabbed a transparent container from the pile of equipment and strode over to Astrotrain. "I'm collecting a sample for analysis."

"You might want to wear gloves for that," Hook advised. "We have yet to determine the cause of the rust, but we _have_ ascertained that it is highly contagious."

"You think I haven't noticed?" Starscream snapped. He seized Astrotrain by his damaged wing. "Now hold still!"

Astrotrain groaned, but made no other protest as Starscream began scraping bits of rusted metal into the container. The fragments made a brittle, pinging sound as they hit the glass, and Rumble flinched, remembering the hologram of the diseased Autobot they'd seen while they were on the ghost planet.

 _Just like us you soon will rust,_ he remembered the phantom proclaiming in its eerie, singsong voice. _All shall be turned to dust!_

It had sounded like a curse to Rumble, and he'd said as much. Astrotrain had agreed, but Megatron had called them superstitious fools, saying that the strange warning was an obvious trick to scare them off. Starscream had sided with Megatron for once, declaring that where there was a curse on the door there had to be treasure on the other side, and... here they all were. Well. _Almost_ all of them.

"Say, where's Megatron?" Rumble asked, glancing around. "Haven't seen him since we landed."

"Hiding," Starscream replied in obvious disgust. "He's cowering in his quarters, hoping that an Autobot will rescue him." Having apparently collected the sample he needed, he snapped the container shut and carried it to one of the consoles in Hook's diagnostic area.

"An _Autobot_?" Hook said, his tone echoing the surprise Rumble felt.

"Megatron has ordered the Stunticons to go fetch _Perceptor_ ," Starscream spat as he activated the console. "He thinks _we_ aren't—" he broke off as the monitor came to life, revealing a greenish-brown mass of… something. Rumble hoped it was just his imagination that it seemed to be moving. "What's _this_?"

"If you had bothered asking, I would have told you that we have already analyzed a sample of the rust." Hook folded his arms. "Obviously."

Starscream spun toward him, optics narrowing. "And what, pray tell, did your analysis reveal?"

"It appears to be an organism of some kind," Hook replied. "We cannot determine its exact nature, but it's clear that it consumes Cybertronian alloy at a rapid—"

"Cosmic Rust," Starscream interrupted. He turned to stare at the monitor again, and Rumble realized that the stuff _was_ moving. It was throbbing and pulsing, as though it was alive. "It's a rare but deadly metallic plague," Starscream said. "Legend has it that it's wiped out entire robotic species. The only known cure is a derivative of tathionium, an extremely rare element. The chances against our finding any on Earth, or even within this solar system are…"

He trailed off, glancing at one of his hands. Rumble squinted, trying to see what he was looking at, but Starscream quickly tucked the hand out of sight.

"You got it too, don't you?" Rumble asked.

Starscream glanced at him, and Rumble caught the beginnings of what might have been fear behind his glare. Before he could say anything, however, the doors snapped open and Frenzy hobbled in, Ravage limping at his side. Both were covered in rust.

"Not you guys too!" Rumble jumped from his seat on the anti-grav sled and ran toward them, but Hook held out an arm to stop him.

"Wait, Rumble! If you go near them, you'll get infected too!"

Rumble stopped in his tracks, staring at Hook's arm. The green plating was covered with flecks of reddish brown. He took a step back, staring past Hook at his two siblings. "What about Soundwave?" he asked.

"'Wave's got it too," Frenzy confirmed. "He's gonna come in as soon as he's done coordinating the Stunticon mission."

"What about the other Cassettes?" Hook asked.

"Laser, Buzzy and Batty are out on recon," Frenzy replied. "'Wave told 'em to stay out until Perceptor finds a cure."

Starscream, who was now behind Rumble, let out an indignant squawk. "That two-bit microscope couldn't cure a common case of the cyber-sniffles, let alone—" he broke off. "Rumble, did you by any chance dock with Soundwave after we returned to base?"

"Yeah," Rumble said, glancing back. "Had to give my report, didn't I?"

"That explains how Frenzy, Ravage and Soundwave got infected," Starscream said as he took a step closer, his gaze fixed on Rumble. "What it doesn't explain is why you're _not_."

"I did a complete physical before clearing him for duty," Hook put in, his visored optics narrowing in a puzzled frown. "Apart from one small scratch where a fragment of the asteroid struck him, he appears to be in perfect autonomic condition."

"Does he, now?" Starscream took another step closer. A feverish light had entered his optics, and Rumble, not liking the looks of it, took a step back.

"Well," Rumble said loudly, "guess I better get those canisters back to the supply bay, and trade 'em in for the ones Hook wanted! See you in a—"

Starscream's arm shot out, catching Rumble by the scruff of his neck as he tried to scurry away. "Not so fast," he purred. "I think we may have identified a factor that warrants further investigation."

"Where are we going?" Rumble demanded a moment later, as Starscream dragged him along the corridor.

"To my lab. Where else?"

"Your _lab_? Let me go, now!" Rumble began to struggle in earnest, but Starscream, who was both bigger and stronger than he was, simply hauled him toward the nearest lift. It popped open at their approach, and the five Stunticons stepped out. Rumble, sensing his opportunity, shouted for help.

"What's going on?" Motormaster demanded.

"He's taking me to his lab! Against my will!" Rumble yelled.

"That's kidnapping!" Breakdown exclaimed. He took a step forward, then paused. "No, I mean mech-napping! I mean—let go of him right now!" He aimed his weapon at Starscream, who raised his own weapon in return. It was then that Rumble saw why he'd been hiding it behind his back. The plating was rusted through with holes, seemingly from the inside.

"I have Cosmic Rust," Starscream announced, "and it's catchy! Who wants some?"

Breakdown's face slackened with horror. "Not me," he said, darting aside as Starscream pushed toward the lift, driving Rumble ahead.

"Or me," Dead End agreed, dodging behind Motormaster's towering bulk.

"C'mon," Wildrider said. "We've got an Autobot scientist to collect."

There was a general murmur of agreement among the Stunticons as they hurried off down the corridor, darting nervous glances back at Starscream and his rusted arm. Starscream smirked, then shoved Rumble into the lift, keeping his rifle trained on him while he worked the controls with his good hand. Rumble's spark lurched as he felt the lift begin to descend toward the bowels of the ship.

"What are you gonna do to me?" he asked. He'd heard things about Starscream's lab, and none were good. Mysterious flashes of light had been seen coming from beneath its doors at odd hours, and there had been reports of strange noises, too. Theories about the lab's contents ranged from super-weapons to reanimated corpses, and everything in between. Rumble had never believed any of those rumors, but then again, he'd never really _dis_ believed in them, either.

"I'm going to figure out why you seem to be immune to Cosmic Rust."

"Yeah?" Rumble asked. "So what's wrong with figuring it out in the repair bay?"

"With _that_ shoddy equipment?" Starscream snorted. "Hook's workshop might be fine for doing Motormaster's wheel alignments, but it's useless where it comes to real science."

 _Science_ , Rumble thought, his spark sinking in despair. "So you're going to do experiments on me."

"How else am I to determine the cause of your immunity?"

The lift stopped. The doors opened, and Starscream shoved him into the corridor directly outside his lab.

"If anything happens to me, you'll have Soundwave to deal with," Rumble said as Starscream steered him toward the heavily reinforced doors. They were held shut with a locking device engraved with a message threatening grievous bodily harm to anyone who dared trespass. Oddly, it reminded Rumble of the inscribed pillar they'd seen on the ghost planet, the one that had contained the holographic warning.

"Ooh, I'm shaking."

"You should be. He could kick your skinny aft into the middle of next orn!"

"I look forward to seeing him try," Starscream said. "Especially since he's apparently pinned his hopes on Megatron's plan of having the Autobot find a cure. By the time that happens, _if_ it happens, I doubt there'll be enough left of him to kick anything other than the bucket!"

"You're one to talk," Rumble snapped. "Your arm looks like Swiss cheese!"

It was true. Starscream's arm was visibly deteriorating, and when he reached to tap the code into the panel that would unlock the doors, the tip of his finger crumbled away. He muttered an oath and twisted around, letting go of Rumble so that he could use his good hand instead—and that was when Rumble bolted for the lift. A blast of energy zipped past his shoulder, and he froze.

"Just in case you thought my rifles weren't working," Starscream said.

Rumble spun back. "If you shoot me, you'll never find your cure!"

Starscream considered this. "Possibly not," he agreed. "But if you _don't_ help me, you'll always have to live with the fact that your creator and siblings died because of you."

"Because of _me_? How is this _my_ fault? You heard what Hook said! I'm in perfect automatic condition!"

"Autonomic," Starscream corrected. He considered Rumble for a moment longer, then lowered his rifle and turned back toward the lab doors. "It's basic plague theory," he remarked as he entered the door code with his working hand. "Out of every population, there will be a certain percentage who are immune to a given disease. But they can still be carriers."

"Carriers?" Rumble echoed. The doors slid open, and he found himself craning for a glimpse inside, curious in spite of himself. Starscream's wings were blocking the view. "What are you talking about?"

Starscream glanced back. In the dimness of the corridor he was ghost-like, a pale winged shape with burning red optics. He smiled. "You were hit by a piece of the asteroid just like Megatron," he said. "You contracted the disease along with the rest of us."

"You mean I _am_ sick?" Rumble glanced at his own hands, but they still looked normal.

"No. But when you docked into Soundwave, you passed the infection to him, and he, in turn, passed it to Ravage and Frenzy." Starscream held his arm up. A faint glow from within the lab threw the damaged limb into stark relief and Rumble realized, with a twist of horror, that he could actually see Starscream's skeletal structure beneath the plating. "This is what will happen to _them_ , Rumble. You'll watch them crumble away into dust, and live the rest of your life wondering if you could have done something to prevent it." He dropped the arm back to his side. "But of course, the choice is up to you."

With that, Starscream turned and strode into the lab. Rumble glanced back at the lift, which was waiting to take him back to freedom, and sighed. Starscream might be an aft, but Rumble had worked with him long enough to know that he really did know what he was talking about where it came to science. "Wait!" he called, running toward the lab as the doors began to close. "Fine, I'll help if I can."

The doors snapped back open. "Excellent," Starscream said, beaming triumphantly, his dentae a slash of white against his dark features. "Welcome to my laboratory," he said, waving Rumble inside, "and thank you _so much for volunteering. It's so rarely that I have a chance to entertain."_


	2. Inner Sanctum

**AN:** Here it is, the concluding chapter! Thanks to the people who followed and left reviews for it. This chapter gets kind of gross in one place; I tried to describe things tastefully, but those who are squeamish may wish to proceed with caution. More notes at the end!

* * *

Starscream's lab was nothing like Rumble had imagined. Then again, he'd been picturing a lab straight out of one of the Earth horror flicks that Dirge liked to watch, complete with bats, cobwebs, and a shrouded body on a table. Instead, it was disappointingly normal. More like a smaller version of Hook's repair bay, only it was more cluttered and most of the machinery looked as if it had been cobbled together out of spare parts. That much, at least, seemed fitting for a Frankenstein laboratory.

"This way," Starscream said, ushering him toward a work bench positioned near the back of the room. "Have a seat. I have some preparations to make before we start."

Rumble climbed onto the bench, still glancing around. The floor was littered with boxes full of spare parts, loose wires and bits of broken machinery, while the shelves and the tops of the consoles were stacked with datapads and diagrams covered in scribbled formulas. Here and there among this seeming chaos he'd spot an item that he couldn't classify: here a chunk of stone, there a holobook that was clearly meant for a youngling rather than an adult, and over in one corner, almost hidden behind towering piles of datapads, was a berth.

"You _recharge_ in here?" Rumble asked, surprised.

"Late nights," Starscream muttered, as if that explained something. As an officer, he had his own private quarters. Why would he recharge down here, in the dank lower regions of the ship? It didn't seem to make sense, but then again, Starscream did a lot of things that didn't make sense.

Shrugging it off, Rumble asked, "Do you think you really have what it takes cure Ravage, Frenzy n' Soundwave?"

Starscream, who had been checking the settings on one of the larger machines, glanced at him. "The question is, do _you_ have what it takes. Come here, I'm going to need a hand."

"Sure thing!" Rumble slid off the bench and trotted toward him, which was the point at which he noticed what the machine was: a giant saw. The circular blade glinted toothily under the cold overhead light, and Rumble froze. "Uh. When you said you needed a _hand_ ," he said, glancing at his own, "you didn't mean—"

"No, Rumble, I meant _this_." Starscream laid his rusted arm beneath the blade, positioning it so that the blade would cut through the undamaged part, about a handspan below his shoulder. "When it falls off," he explained, "I'll need you to catch it."

" _What_?"

"How _else_ would you suggest slowing the rate of infection?" Starscream huffed as he activated the blade. "Besides which, I'm going to need a specimen. Now, come on!"

Rumble scurried to the saw, climbing onto an overturned trash receptacle in order to reach Starscream's arm. He shuddered as the corroded metal flaked off under his palms, and it occurred to him that the last time he'd helped Starscream with something scientific he'd ended up covered in bird crap. He wouldn't have thought anything could be worse than _that_ , but Starscream had just proved otherwise.

Starscream grasped the lever with his good hand. "Ready?"

"Urrgh…"

The blade came down. Starscream grimaced as it bit into his arm, raising sparks, and the sound of metal grinding through metal was enough to make Rumble's circuits wobble. He offlined his optics, fighting a losing battle with his tanks. Then the blade was through, and the arm came loose in his hands. He stumbled, losing his balance on the crate, and hit the floor with the severed arm clutched to his chest. It was at that point that his tanks gave out. He barely had time to drag himself to the trash receptcacle before purging an entire day's ration of energon.

When the swirling dark spots finally began to recede from his vision, he heard a rasping cackle from above. Glancing up, he saw that Starscream was leaning heavily on the saw and making a sound which Rumble's throbbing processor belatedly identified as laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"First—" Starscream made a hiccuping sound, "you're concerned about curses, and now _this_. I'm starting to think you're not as tough as you pretend!"

"Oh yeah?" Rumble scrambled up, brandishing the severed arm like a weapon—and one of its fingers fell off. As it hit the floor near his pede, he discovered that his tanks hadn't been completely empty, after all.

"Still," Starscream continued, as he hobbled to one of the tool benches, "I'm grateful that you chose to use the trash receptacle. That was most considerate."

As he spoke, he carefully lowered what remained of his arm into a vat of liquid. When he withdrew it, the stump was coated with a silvery substance which quickly hardened to form a shell.

"Much better," he said, examining his handiwork with an air of satisfaction. Rumble could see the telltale quiver across his wingspan, however, and he'd spent enough time around Seekers to know what it meant. Though he might be trying to hide the fact, it wasn't hard to guess that Starscream was in pain. A _lot_ of it.

"So now what?" Rumble asked, studying Starscream warily. He was half afraid that he might keel over, and if he passed out, there'd be _no_ chance of finding a cure in time to save Ravage, Soundwave, or—for that matter—anyone.

Starscream turned, gripping the workbench for balance. "We have a question to answer," he said, giving Rumble a considering look. "That being, what is the difference between you and Frenzy?"

"What d'you mean?"

"He is sick and you are not," Starscream said musingly. "It begs the question."

"What question?"

Starscream shot him a look that would have been intimidating, if not for the reddish powder trickling from his nose.

"Er, Starscream." Rumble tapped the side of his own nose. "You've got a little, ah…"

Starscream wiped his nose with his remaining hand, stared at the rust flecks for a moment, then shrugged. Turning to one of the consoles, he pulled up a schematic of Rumble, then Frenzy, and superimposed the two images. "Identical," he said, "right down to the pile-drivers. You have the same physical structure, same abilities… even your _voices_ are similar."

"But I'm not gettin' sick and he is," Rumble said. "That means there has to be somethin' different about me. Right?"

"Right," Starscream echoed, his mouth twisting in a thoughtful grimace. His expression cleared and he reached for the console again, bringing up a third image. This was a shot taken during an energy collection mission. Rumble and Frenzy were side by side, using their pile-drivers to shake up the ground and expose a vein of lava. "There," Starscream said. He stepped back, giving Rumble a clear view of the screen. "What difference do _you_ see?"

Rumble studied the image. He and Frenzy were both crouching, their pile-drivers working in the same rhythm, and even their expressions were identical. "I dunno," he said finally. "I don't see any difference, 'cept that he's black-and-red and I'm—"

"Exactly!" Starscream cut in. "Your _coloration_ is different."

Rumble stared at him, wondering if the rust had found its way into his processor. If the stuff was coming out of his nose, was a _bad_ sign, wasn't it? "It's no big deal," he said. "It's just that Frenzy and I have different nanites."

"Different nanites, precisely." Starscream took a glass container, similar to the one he'd used to collect rust from Astrotrain, from a shelf above his workbench. "Put a few flakes of the rust in there," he said, tapping it with his finger. "We're going to do a little experiment!"

Rumble had to climb onto an overturned crate to reach the workbench, but he did as he was told, watching with some interest as Starscream continued to rummage on his shelves. The sheer number and variety of objects was fascinating. Starscream's hand bumped against an object which Rumble suddenly recognized as a holocube. It was old. _Really_ old, by the looks of it, yellow and cracked on one side so that the hazy, faded image had doubled up on itself. Nevertheless, the two figures in the picture were still completely recognizable.

"Hey," Rumble said, reaching for it. "Isn't this what's-his-head?"

"Hmm?" Starscream, who was by now rifling through a drawer, awkward with only one hand, didn't glance up.

"That guy we chipped outta the ice," Rumble said. "Name was Skyfire, right? Why would you keep a picture of _him_ , after what he—"

"Give me that!" Starscream grabbed the cube away from him and stuffed it in the drawer, which he then slammed shut with his hip. "Now, if you're _quite_ done prying into my personal affairs, I would appreciate if you could focus on our experiment! You _do_ want to save your brother, don't you?"

"Well yeah, but—"

"Excellent!" Starscream held out a syringe. "Please stick this in your arm."

"What?"

"Do you have a hearing problem?"

"No! But…" Rumble stared at the syringe, the needle of which was nearly as long as his little finger. "In my arm, you said?"

"In your elbow joint, specifically. Make sure it goes all the way in to ensure that we get a sample of nanocytes."

"Nano-whats?"

"Nanocytes. They're the precursor nanites that build the other types of nanite that inhabit your frame, such as auto-repair nanites, energy absorption nanites, imunonanites, and chromites."

"Crow-whats?"

"Chromites are the nanites that create a protective layer over the outer surface of your frame. Each individual's chromites are patterned differently and reflect different light wavelengths, which is why we have different colorations. Now quit stalling and get me the sample!"

Rumble glanced at the syringe again, sighed, and did as ordered. It hurt, as he'd known it would, but when he handed back the syringe, it contained a few drops of a whitish-silver substance.

"Hmph! That's the best you could do? Well, let's take a closer look." Starscream dispensed a drop of the substance into the container along with the rust, gave it a shake, and slid it into a slot on the side of the console. An image came up on the screen, showing globules of a greenish, pulsing goo. "We certainly didn't need Perceptor for _this_ ," Starscream muttered. "We have our _own_ microscopes, thank you very much."

"What _are_ those?" Rumble asked.

"Cosmic Rust germs. And that…" Starscream pointed at a grayish fleck, "is one of your nanocytes. Now let's watch and see what happens."

"There's _more_ of 'em!" Rumble said, watching with a mixture of horror and fascination as the germs began to multiply.

"Yes," Starscream agreed, studying the readouts. "It appears the rust-germs are attacking your nanocytes, just as they did with my frame."

"You mean I'm gonna rust out too?"

"Keep watching!" Starscream hissed. "Look at what's happening."

Rumble glanced back. "What… hey! What are _those_ things? They're like Pac-Men." And they were, too. The gray flecks were growing, turning yellow, and they even seemed to have little mouths.

"Like what?"

"Oh. It's an Earth game Ramjet taught me. There's this little yellow thing called a Pac-Man, and it eats these pellet-things—"

"Ah yes, _that_ game." Starscream smirked. "Improbable as it might seem, that is an excellent analogy."

"Analo…"

"Comparison," Starscream clarified. "In this case the… _Pac-Men_ … are your nanocytes. They seem to have produced a new _type_ of nanite which is capable of destroying the infection, rather than being destroyed _by_ it. In other words, I was right. You are immune."

"So I have, like… _super_ nanites?"

Starscream slanted him an odd look which Rumble recognized, after a moment, as one of amusement. "Yes. I suppose you _could_ say that." He picked up the syringe. "Now get me a sample from your other arm!"

"S'okay Rav," Rumble said later. "You got the cure now. You'll be better in no time."

The big cat growled softly as he edged closer on the berth. He rested his head on Rumble's thigh and nuzzled the good side of his face against his hand until Rumble started to pet him. Frenzy, on the far side of the berth, snorted.

"Careful Rumbler. If you keep this up, everyone's gonna think you were worried about us or something."

Rumble smirked. "You're just bent outta shape because I got to see the inside of Starscream's lab and you didn't!"

Frenzy scowled. "Fine. Could you at least give me a _hint_ about what he's got in there?"

"I _could_ , but then I'd have to kill ya."

Frenzy bristled. "You little pipsqueak! I oughta—"

"Rest: required for recovery," Soundwave interrupted from the neighboring berth. "Silence: preferred."

Frenzy subsided with a growl while Ravage rolled on his side and demanded a belly rub. Rumble complied, and after a moment, Frenzy joined in. A companionable silence fell, and Rumble smiled as he heard, and felt, a real purr begin to vibrate through Ravage's warm plating. He'd come so close to losing them, it was scary to even think about. Luckily, he didn't have to.

At the far side of the repair bay, the heavy set of doors that led to the intensive care unit snapped open and Hook stepped through with Starscream limping along beside him. His severed arm stump was now swaddled in a heavy layer of protective bandages. Beyond them, Rumble caught a glimpse of Astrotrain, who was strapped to a stasis berth in what Hook had earlier described as a medically-induced coma. Rumble figured that was probably just as well, considering the shape he was in. Several of the Constructicons were in the ICU as well, while the main part of the repair bay was host to a steady stream of ailing Decepticons who had come in to get the cure after a ship-wide announcement had been sent out.

"The corrosion has indeed halted," Hook was saying. "What is more, his self-repair system is starting to reverse the damage. Of course, we will be busy manufacturing replacement parts for quite some time, but…" he paused, glancing down at own rust-flecked arm, "at least it seems that this will halt the spread of the plague."

"It'll do a lot more than that!" Starscream replied. "Thanks to me, the entire Decepticon army is about to be immunized!"

"Don't you mean thanks to _me_?" Rumble said, rubbing one of his elbows. They were still sore from the syringe having been jammed into them, though in the greater scheme of things, he supposed it was a small price to pay. " _I'm_ the one with the super-nanites."

"And _I'm_ the one who discovered your super-nanites and reconfigured their programming, so that they would become compatible with the systems of other Cybertronians besides yourself! If you think you could have done _that_ , dear Rumble, then I'm afraid you are sadly—"

He broke off as the main doors of the repair bay flew open and Megatron strode through.

"Whoa," Frenzy said in a low voice. "He's dazzling!"

"Yeah, he kinda looks like a disco ball," Rumble whispered back. "Well he _does_!" he added, in response to Soundwave's warning glance.

Even if the Decepticon leader didn't _quite_ resemble a disco ball, he was very shiny. His silver frame was polished to mirror brightness, and he seemed to sparkle under the harsh lights as he glanced around the room, his gaze briefly coming to rest on Starscream's damaged arm before sweeping over to Soundwave.

"Megatron!" Starscream said, as if finding his voice. "I presume that you're here to congratulate me on my discovery of—"

"Soundwave!" Megatron interrupted, pushing past him. "I require your assistance coordinating a mission."

"Just one moment," Hook said, stepping into Megatron's path. "Soundwave hasn't been cleared for duty, nor is he going to be until he is free of rust!"

Rumble tensed, wondering how their leader was going to react to such blatant defiance, though he'd noticed that Hook tended to get away with it. This time was no exception. Megatron, rather than getting angry, simply reached into his subspace, pulled out a small vial of liquid, and tossed it to Hook.

"There should be enough Corostop in here to cure him quite nicely."

"Corostop?" Hook echoed, eyeing the vial with naked suspicion.

"It was invented by our soon-to-be-late Autobot guest, Perceptor," he said, his lips stretching in a thin smile. "Apply what's left of it to Soundwave—and Soundwave, I expect your attendance in the command center in half a breem. Bring whichever of your Cassettes are healthy enough."

"Yes, Master Megatron," Soundwave replied.

Megatron nodded once, turned, and strode for the door.

"Megatron!" Starscream said, trying again. "I have isolated a specialized nanite that consumes—"

"Not now, Starscream! There isn't time for your scientific foolishness! We have Autobots to crush."

"But—"

As the doors slid closed behind Megatron, Starscream visibly deflated. Rumble watched as his expression darkened, his one remaining fist clenching at his side. He then straightened, hiked his wings up as if to gather his tattered dignity, and headed for the doors himself.

"Starscream wait," Hook called after him. "We need to replace your—" The doors snapped shut, and Hook sighed. "Wonder where _he's_ off to in such a hurry?"

"Ah, who can tell with him," Frenzy said. "He spends half his time off base these days anyway."

"He does?" Rumble frowned. He hadn't noticed, though after a glimpse behind the "cursed" doors of Starscream's lab, he did know, for sure, that there was more to the Decepticon SIC than any of them was ever likely to find out.

Hook cleared his vocalizer. "Well." He took a step toward Soundwave. "Let's see what this 'Corostop' can do, then, shall we?

As he began applying it to Soundwave's frame, Rumble couldn't help but grin. "Hey, boss! You're startin' to look like a disco ball yourself!"

Soundwave replied with a rare chuckle, and Rumble suddenly forgot all about curses, rust, nanocytes or severed arms. His family was safe, and things were going to be okay. He just knew it.

* * *

 **End Notes:** In the episode _Cosmic Rust_ , which this is based on, it appears as if the entire Decepticon army is cured of Cosmic Rust with just the contents of one small vial of Corostop that Perceptor gives to Megatron. Since that seems a bit unlikely, I humbly offer this alternative, "behind the scenes" explanation for your consideration. The line about Rumble and Frenzy's voices being similar is a little nod to the fact that they were both voiced by the same actor, the amazingly talented Frank Welker, and the bird crap incident happened during the episode, _A Decepticon Raider in King Arthur's Court_. It's a fun episode, so go watch it! Right after you lavish me with glowing reviews, naturally. ;-)


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